the smuggler’s bible

Baldomar

“The problem is your grip. Relax, let it breathe.”

“I thought these things were easy to use. That was a bullet point in the dang brochure.”

Harshal frowns. “You don’t buy a magic sword out of a brochure.”

“You know what I mean.” The mottled steel in Baldomar’s hands glows soft blue and chimes like a bell. The sound is high and pure and sweet. “See! What the hell is that supposed to be? Is that good or bad?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

Actually, though, orcs eat them both. Then they eat the sword. Orcs are tough, man.